Do You Feel Joy in Your Body?

I wonder how often you experience joy in your body?

It’s so easy to get caught up in the “problem solving” mode when it comes to movement, and yet we rarely orient ourselves toward pleasure, satisfaction, and play.

Spontaneity, the ability to roll with the punches or relish an unexpected opportunity, is really what we ought to be aiming for in our movement - and our lives. The wonderful thing (which few people realize) is that once you shift your focus to this, the problems dissipate on their own and performance gains happen naturally.

I’d love to take a closer look at this - shall we?

Most people approach their movement from a state of compulsion. “Need,” “ought,” and “should’” and “have to” are mainstays of their vocabulary when it comes to the body. Their attitude is largely one of negative selection, the attempt to ward off an unwanted outcome. Gotta get rid of this pain, need to lose those 20 extra pounds, really should get back into my exercise, etc.

Unfortunately the market reinforces this by hammering away with pain-based marketing.

Of course, you may well literally be in pain as you read this, and I don’t intend to discount that experience. What I’m suggesting is that you’re going to be far more successful in ridding yourself of that pain and excess tension if you orient yourself toward a positive selection, something that you genuinely desire (rather than focusing solely on what you want to get rid of).

This, however, is much more than merely thinking happy thoughts.

This requires being able to experience pleasure, satisfaction, and joy in your movement.

When I work with clients, we follow a couple of basic guidelines for this:

1) They “do less,” strategically.

There’s a principle of nervous system function called the Weber-Fechner formulation which suggests that the smaller the magnitude of a stimulus, the better able we are to detect changes in that stimulus.

The common example given is that it’s much easier to see a match struck in a dark room than it is in the middle of a sunny day. Less light makes it easier to notice changes in the light.

Moving at a lower intensity also lets you pick up subtle nuances that would otherwise escape your notice. When clients work with me, we’ll scale back to a tiny fraction of a movement so that they’re better able to notice changes in the quality of their experience while they’re moving. They may go through 25 repetitions of a particular movement, exploring just a few inches of the total range of motion available, and in doing so they’re able to notice “the difference that makes a difference.”

At the start it may only be the difference between “this hurts more” and “that hurts less,” but that’s enough to begin training your perception to notice nuance. Eventually that magic distinction presents itself: “this actually feels good.”

Keep in mind: your body is essentially lazy. It wants to conserve energy. If it perceives a better option, it’ll make use of that option more readily, but this requires dialing in your perception in order to notice better options when they arise.

“Doing less” is an incredibly effective way to refine your perception.

However, you’ll notice that I mention doing less “strategically.”

I find that in many mind/body practices, participants end up in an ooey gooey puddle (which may feel nice in the short term), but become no more capable of engaging in real world activity - often leading to repeat injuries down the road.

This “doing less” approach can unravel a lot of tension and reveal subtle changes in the way that you organize a movement, but for longevity and sustainability it’s crucial to introduce a training stimulus.

For example, a couple of years ago, when I was first exploring this sort of work in depth, I went through a two-week immersion in this “soft” practice, and I noticed that something felt different in the way that I was standing and walking. My whole sense of uprightness had changed. I tested it out with my barbell and found that I’d increased my maximum deadlift by a whopping 40 pounds as a result of a subtle change in the engagement through my feet.

Even better: it felt good - elegant even.

I’d been active for years prior to that and had never experienced such a dramatic improvement. The results carried over into my weekly barefoot hikes as well, letting me float along the trails without any effort.

From that point onward, I was hooked.

This “do less, strategically” approach sets you up for the next part, which is the whole freaking point in my opinion.

2) They practice liking themselves.

I frequently suggest to my clients that they move in such a way that they like themselves more after each repetition, making each rep more satisfying by their own standards.

When was the last time you moved like that?

This means that — rather than merely going through the motions — they have to really pay attention to what they’re experiencing moment to moment, using their movement as a way to connect with pleasure and genuine self care.

This requires that they listen to themselves as they perform the movement, heeding their bodies’ signals of tension and pain and adjusting course. They enter into a reciprocal, caring relationship with their bodies, and their bodies’ potential unfolds as a result. Just think: you’re probably much more willing to help out people that you feel good with rather than those who punish you, right? Why would your body be any different?

Feeling good really is a skill.

It requires noticing what feels good and what doesn’t and deliberately inhibiting the things that don’t feel good so that the unfamiliar good feeling options can become more and more second nature. This takes practice.

Most people are very well practiced at overriding their bodies’ signals of discomfort and pushing themselves - often to the breaking point. They don’t realize that the way they move is so intimately related to their overall sense of self.

You can imagine what a difference this makes in people’s lives when they figure this out.

Having developed a much clearer connection to the body, they know on a gut level when they’re not satisfied with something, and they’re able to take action right away to address it (instead of letting the situation fester). This is where the idea of Movement As Metaphor came from in the first place.

Connecting with the experience of pleasure and satisfaction in movement sets a virtuous circle in motion, in which you become more and more aware of your personal preferences moment-to-moment, and as a result you’re better able to live your life in accordance with those preferences:

• The typical workout becomes an opportunity to connect with your internal strength and support.

• Rushed, impersonal sex gives way to deep, sensuous connection.

• You end up less willing to settle for mediocre coffee in the mornings and more apt to savor the everyday experiences of joy that present themselves to you.